Weathered staff, muddy boots, broken time-piece, rugged coat, fiddle, pencil stub, yellowed pages, old photograph, parched wine-skin, coffee beans & dry flowers...scribblings of a wandering gypsy.
Yes, this is the place where I scribble all my thoughts in the form of poetry.

Sunday, November 21, 2010

Another one of those random, impromptu scribbles. Not expecting too comments for this one.

I see a strip of sand,Pebbled at the point where land meets the sea.And a sea contoured in shingle.Umpteen quartz dune on the shore,Crest and troughs,And an hour glass in the horizon Running out on time.A time of purple clouds,Suspended hopes,and a fading rainbow.With a quiet adieuThe sun goes downMy thoughts saunter backWith a foot full of splinters.

3 comments:

Arpita Roy
said...

Awesome! For two unique comparisons. Firstly, I felt that I was on the beach..staring at the waves...And yes, if you stare for long, the leg does go to sleep..The tingling sensation like needles prickling being compared to splinters is a bri...lliant comparison!Secondly, the concept of nature's hourglass shifting sands from land and sea being timeless is a unique theme and has been excellently displayed!

This poem is a breath of fresh air and a mark of a seasoned veteran! Felt as if you were sitting on the beach and posting this one. Timeless!

About Coffee Beans and Dry Flowers...

Coffee Beans and dry flowers,A spent candle and ashes in the fireplace; Coffee lying stale in a chipped mug,And a table cloth that was once white,Edged with frayed lace.A window pane that is cracked,Climbers lying uncared for on the sill,A raging storm beyond it,But here my world stands still.

A bulb in the corner, at times flickering,And a radio sometimes crackles...But registers nothing.

But somewhere amidst all of this, I wait...While penningmy thoughts on yellowed pages,Random scribblings of a wandering gypsy perhaps,Waiting for my vagrant soul to find a home,Waiting for my hand to be held and grasped.

Yes, this is the place where I scribble all my thoughts in the form of poetry.

About Me

Have you ever stopped to stare at roadside flowers? Run around on dewy grass on early spring mornings? Enjoyed the musty smell of frayed pages of old books? Smiled back at strangers? Ever felt like walking back home in the rain? Stopped whatever you were doing to listen to your favourite song on the radio? Ever strained your ears to hear silence? Become teary eyed during mushy scenes in movies? Ever called up long lost friends for no apparent reason? Wanted to believe in something that cannot be explained? Ever loved? Been loved? ever lain spread eagled on the terrace, counting the wishes amidst the phosphorescent sea of a million stars overhead, wondering whether yours was somewhere among those waves too?
See, I told you…you know me…